яεαson4
by anaKONI
Summary: there's a reason for everything, and everything has a reason. this is a preview for a spinoff novel i'm writing. i'm only uploading the prologue and first chapter. if you like it, tell me, and i'll continue writing it and attempt getting it published.
1. prologue

Prologue

Before I begin, I'd like to state simply that this is not a report nor a diary of any sort. I have never been a fan of excessive writing or typing on serious matters and my persona is much too stoic to have any thought to keep a whimsical thing like a diary. Rather, the following logs are nothing more than a resource for future generations...or in simpler terms, a record of my exsistance. Although these ramblings will most likely not become of any use to anyone, it will put my own mind at ease to know that something will be left of me after death.

I live at the Wammy House, and have lived here as long as I can remember. I know little about the entire history of the orphanage due to mere lack of interest, but what I can assure you is that the home is a cess pool of great minds and philosophers, all under legal age. Originally, the orphanage was nothing but ana verage orphanage who took in children from the local area...

And along came the genius.

Quillish Wammy, the founder of our home, brought the boy to the orphanage when he was younger than I am now, and as he grew, the orphanage's main focus was changed. The boy...he had become a marvelous detective...no, he was the world's greatest detective, and that was all due to the love and care of the Wammy House. It was decided that said detective needed people to follow in his place in case the worst of the worst were to happen.

I ended up at the house long after it had become a place for raising the gifted so I'm not quite sure if I can explain to you the burden the previous, 'ungifted' orphans felt when they were told they needed to begin hard and tedious studies and step into the detective's shoes, but I can assure you that it was definitely a change that they simply couldn't approve of. Many of the orphans left on their own, while others wre forced to leave to make room for the enriched flock of children who were supposed to pour in. I supose the entire point of my little rant was to inform you that the orphanage's change and finally, it's downfall, was L's fault.

All his fault.

With this in mind, it may not come as surprising that many of the other parentless kids held a strong dislike, no, a fiery passion of despise toward the man.

But...I was different...and so was he.

We're different from the others, he and I. We admire him (usually from afar, for he's never really around. That, and even with his slouchy posture he's quite an intimidating sight) and are often looked down upon and even tortured because of it. But he and I are different from the other orphans...we're better than the other orphans, much better. We are next in line, the next generation's greatest detectives, the Wammy House's smartest members.

While he has learned to keep his opinion on L to himself, I've taken a different approach by isolating myself. I watch as he plays soccer with the other boys with absolutely no remorse in my blank slate eyes and I merely continue to piece together my puzzles.

And I am completely satisfied with my choice of lifestyle, for I know that what I'm doing is much more important than a few childhood friends or memories. I know that I will eventually take the place of the world's most righteous, glorious man and help hundreds or maybe even thousands of people. But, until then, I'll remain alone in my room, piecing together the same puzzle.

I can't honestly say that my life here at the Wammy House has been completely bad -- on the contrary, I can't quite say it's been peachy either, but I will admit that my fondest recollections all take place here within the clean and spotless walls of the home. As I've mentioned, these logs are proof that I, Nate River, or better known as Near although I would prefer you refrained from reffering me as such while reading this set of momentos, was alive and did, in fact, exsist, but these logs are also proof that I have had what one would call acquaintances, friends even. I will also keep these notse as a friendly file of the things I never want to forget, for when I grow old and begin to whither away, reading these fond thoughts from my lacking childhood will, again, be enough to put my mind at ease.


	2. chapter one: a

Chapter One

A.

I was young, but old enough to be able to remember the man quite clearly to this day. He was similar to my rival and I, in the sense that he was open with his admiration for L and acceptance toward the fact that the Wammy House was forever changed. A had been a carefree man, real name being Albert Geisnov or something along those lines (I've never really been good with remembering names other than aliases) What I do know is that the brunette was completely of Russian blood, which wasn't too abnormal, seeing as the Wammy House had quickly become a home for children of all nationalities after it's transformation. A had been one of the oldest orphans in the home, and was one of the only original orphans who had been around before L had become a detective.

I only knew his real, full name, for I met the man before it was required for everybody in the orphanage to use only their alias. As time progressed, however, things became more tense and we were all forced into using fake names, eventually leading into completely fake identities.

But that story is for another chapter.

Carefree is the lightest term I can think of to describe the man. He never seemed to be worried about anything, which is probably why he stuck around after the orphanage became more of an academy rather than a home for the parentless. I believe his exact words to me were, "Man, if they make me study, then they make me study. Good luck gettin' shit out of me though,"

He and I were nearly conjoined at the hip. Well...I was only one who continued to insist on this statement. I was young, only nine or ten years old, and can imagine, now that I've reached an older age and a new sense of maturity, that I must have taken the role of an annoying little brother in the man's life. But never had he once suggested to me that I was unwanted, and that's probably why I favored him so. He, unlike many of the other boys and girls, accepted me, unhealthy devotion to L and all.

I was with him at all times; I sat in his bedroom with him and slept with him most nights, I followed him into the courtyard whenever he went out to smoke, and I definitely followed him into the kitchen when he went to get something to eat...and I was happy.

Albert and Mail Jeevas were good friends; that's how he and I were introduced, and eventually, my strained friendship with Mail brought he and Miheal closer together, but that too is a story for another chapter.

I never quite understood why the red-head liked his video games so much. Quite frankly, I saw them as boring and as a waste of time, but when I finally brought up the nerve to say such a thing, he only responded with the same statement, replacing his video games with my love of childish toys and puzzles. Regardless, I watched as he mashed his buttons furiously, manuevering his body in the way of his controller, while Albert, with a yawn, merely allowed the cars to pass him. I didn't understand the concept of the game, but I picked up that it was to be a group effort when Mail made a big scene about the entire ordeal.

"Why don't you at least try to play, hmm? This was your idea anyway!" He sounded anything but pleased. Slient, I cocked my eyebrow some and watched the scene unfold. Albert's demeanor seemed to remain neutral.

"Dude, chill out. It's not that big of a deal," His voice was completely in monotone (but when wasn't it?) Mail, who had been quite a feisty one back in his younger days, threw an absolute fit. I couldn't pick up every word he was blurting out, but I can assure you that he wasn't exactly happy. Despite Albert's attempts to calm him down, the tantrum extended on. I couldn't help but to smill some, perhaps even snicker; he was acting so childish, and I couldn't help but to feel embarassed for him. He, the male who was two years older than I, was acting like he was five years old.

And his humilation, as sadistic as this sounds, came as a sort of entertainment to me.

By then, Albert had become quite fed up with the situation and frankly, was annoyed. He stepped away from the fuming Mail and shoved his hands into his pockets, a blank expression on his face. "Look, I'm going outside to smoke. I'll keep playing with you if you're acting your age by the time I get back,"

This seemed to set something off in Mail, and before I or Albert or anybody could have done anything to stop it, his fist was planted into the brunette's face. I felt my jaw drop somewhat, but I quickly noticed the irregularity and pressed my lips back together inconspiciously.

"How about you fight your battles for once?" Albert kept his hands in his pocket with a slight roll of his eyes, and Mail approached him quickly. His hasty stride and the gleam in his eyes told me that the situation could only turn out bad, not only for my friend, but also for Mail. If Roger or one of the orphanage directors came into the room and saw him punching Albert, A, the heir to L's position...he would be in an entire new world of trouble. I acted quickly and on my feet, leaping past Mail's angering presence and snatching his video games, tearing the console from it's sockets and cords and then darted off into the direction of the bathroom. It hadn't taken him long to realize that his games were out of place and almost immediately, he darted after me as fast as his legs would take him.

I remember panting hard; I was almost running for my life. Clutching onto the games for dear life, I slid on the tile floor into one of the bathrooms and quickly realized I needed to make a decision. The entire point of my stealing the games was to distract him so that Albert could make an escape...but what was I supposed to do from there? I eyed the window. _'I could leave them behind and then jump out!'_ I listened carefully to the pattering of Mail's excellerated feet in the hallway and released that my ingenious plot was lacking the one thing it needed the most; time. He made his way into the bathroom, face red with heat and the blood rushing to his head.

Panicking, I threw the games into the nearest toilet and attempted to flush them down.

This was possibly one of the worst mistakes of my life.

I was beaten for the first time that day. I felt the sensation of having a foot thrusted into my stomach, along with the delightful feeling of being punched in the sides and being forced to the ground. My hair was pulled and I probably lost a tooth or two, but I hadn't shed a tear. Emotionally I was weak, and this is something you'll find to be more than true later on, but physically, I was and still am a brick wall.

That, and I absolutely refuse to cry in public.

A had always been there for me. After I had finished with the orphanage's nurse, bandaged and bruised, we met in the front of the home at our official spot; right under the biggest oak tree, directly in front of the orphanage's front steps. Whenever we went outside, we met in front of the tree. If we couldn't find each other, we'd wait at the tree until the other showed up.

I approached him with a smile, seeming to forget the bandages on my arms and torso, along with the cuts and scratches on my face. He didn't look down, but rather, continued to smoke, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and allowing the greyish smoke to billow out of his mouth. He did nothing to comfort me other than placing his large hand on top of my head and messing around with my palid tresses...and I was completely content with this. My smile had disappeared and I looked down at the ground, at the leaves in particular. The hues of gold, red, and brown were mystifying.

He pushed his cigarette against the tree to stop the flame from burning and then kneeled down to my level some. He smelled strongly of smoke, a scent quite overtly did not enjoy, and I noticably cringed. Albert put it aside.

"Don't ever do that again,"

I looked up, confused. "Huh?"

His face was unusually austere. "Not only did you just commit both a felony and a misdemeanor, but you also went and got yourself completely fucked up. Look at yourself. You look like you just got out of a war zone! Use your brain next time,"

I didn't understand. This new form of Albert was something I wasn't used to, nor was being scolded. I was a good boy, a non-assertive boy who never did anything wrong...but protecting Albert came as a first measure to me and so I pushed away whatever doubts or thoughts I had in my mind and acted completely through my emotions. Being scolded for such a thing, especially from a person like A, soon taught me that my mind should always overpower my heart.

But that lesson wouldn't be fully absorbed until later.

Tears were pouring down my face. I felt terrible, like I had just got away with murder and I was being forced to watch the victim's family cry. Albert returned to his own level and for a minute, he allowed me to lament, saying nothing and doing nothing. He felt no remorse for my tears. It was a message I needed to hear, and regardless of my reaction, he couldn't show signs of withdrawal or guilt.

Only the first two tears were because I felt guilty; the following tears were because I felt like an idiot, crying in front of him. I appeared to be weak, and my emotional baracade seemed to completely dissapate before my eyes. It was unbelievable. I felt somewhat of a release as I allowed my tears to pour out, but the humiliation of the entire situation outweighed the good feelings. He placed his hand on my curly locks once more, and then smiled some. Albert Geisnov was the first...and last living person I had ever cried in front of.

Forgive me for my rambling. I'll try to get on to the main point of A's story.

He appeared to be happy. Even I was fooled by his facade of smiles and giggles. But he was utterly dolorous, more than you, Mello, or anybody else could ever have known or even understand.

Nobody could have guessed thath is body would be found on a noose in the front yard, in plain sight for everybody to see.

But I'd like to start his real log of events on a happier, brighter note...although, in his case, it may not have been possible. Such a miserable man.

It all began when it had been announced that A would be the great L's successor. I was just as surprised as he was. Although he was always late to turn in his school work and quite frankly, a person well-known to procrastinate, whatever he did get done was usually at the top of his class and beyond everybody's expectations of the buoyant individual. No matter how much they wanted to, it took a lot of guts for a scholar of any level of difficulty to mark off his paper for being late.

I started to see less and less of him the more time went on. I can remember clearly that on multiple occasions he would be completely pulled from whatever room he was occupying...by Roger, of course. His advisor, his "watari", was Roger, the orphanage's head director. And though he was a kind, gentle man, he was strict, and I soon became lonely as the absences of my closest friend became more frequent. Could you blame me? I was a child, and to be withdrawn from the most important and influental person in my life so suddenly was like removing a baby bird from it's mother.

Perhaps that wasn't the best of examples, but I'll admit, I've never really been any good with similies.

To make a long story short, I felt alone and my isolation began again. Perhaps my lonliness was what fueled it -- my following era of despondancy was one that I didn't think I'd ever get out of. I lost all motivation to do anything...to work, to talk, to sleep...and I continued to remain locked in my room.

I asked Roger on multpile ocassions to let me talk to Albert, or at least see how he was doing. The man was gentle with his words, but his replies were always delivered with a cold and frightening scowl.

"A is too busy, and will be for quite a while. How about trying to make some new friends?"

The problem with that was that I wanted nobody else. I didn't want anybody else to take his place, not then or ever. Albert was the closest person to me in the orphanage and I felt as if I was being robbed at gunpoint, for there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

When I wasn't completely engulfed in desolation, I continued my pursuit for my friend with an avid adour. I would try to sneak into the area where he did his studies but was always uncovered before my plans took full effect. Eventually, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I would continue to be seperated from my friend and even if I were to come up with the most brilliant plan ever schemed, Roger and those he had positioned to try to keep me away from the man would always outsmart me, in every single case.

This realization made the disconsalation worse.

It had been but half a year since the proclamation had been made. I hadn't thought of the night any differently as I had every other night for the last six months. The only thoughts on my mind were A, and what he was doing, and just the general welfare of my oldest and dearest friend. Looking to the clock, I released a despaired sigh; it was three in the morning. I had become used to nights without sleep so it wasn't much of a disappointment. The only thing that troubled me was finding something to keep myself occupied until I did fall asleep or until morning came; a safer bet would be on the latter. Eyes jumping across the dark walls of my room, I eyed my toy robot collection and pondered if they would be too noisy.

I jumped nearly half a foot into the air when my door was forced open. I bolted upright in my bed and clutched onto my blankets, eyeing for the figure that was flashing the small, thin beam of light through my door. The hallways outside were dark, so it was obvious that whoever it was was carrying a flashlight.

"Nate. Get up,"

I recognized the voice immediately but almost didn't want to believe it. I was surprised that the rest of the orphanage hadn't woken up to the sound of my panicked rustling in bed, and so it was somewhat unconvincing when he told me to get up as if I wasn't awake. His intentions weren't to wake me, for I was sure that he knew that I was more than conscious...no, he wanted me to hear and recognize his voice so that I wouldn't be afraid. I was overjoyed...but that feeling was soon overrun by a feeling of anxiety.

"What are you doing here? If Roger catches you here, he'll punish us both!" I managed to whisper loud enough for him to hear. He paced himself over to my bed, but I wasn't aware until he plopped himself down at the end farthest from me.

"Let's leave here...please,"

I looked up at him, trying to make eye contact, but he had the flash light pointed towards the floor and all other areas of the room were pitch black. I couldn't see a thing. Regardless, I tried to be extra comforting through my words. "What's wrong?"

"I..."

His pause made me feel uncomfortable. I was worried...worried sick. This was the first I had heard of him for almost half a year and he sounded the most emotional I had ever heard him be in all of our time together.

"I'm so miserable."

I blinked a few times. How was I supposed to respond? I reached out and allowed my smaller hand to grasp his shoulder in the most comforting way I could manage, and a wave of attrition came over me. I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to do everything I could for him. But everything that was in my power wasn't enough to make him happy.

And then I too was miserable.

"A-Alright. Let's go,"

I was young, naive, and on the verge of crying.

Anything for Albert. Anything for my rolemodel. Anything for my best friend. Despite the lack of lumination, I was able to make out the small, relieved smile the male was quick to flash. A yawn escaped my lips; it was early, and Albert was aware that I was tired...and so, he proceeded to lift me onto his back and as I clung to his neck, we tiptoed down the empty halls of the orphanage, making soft tapping sounds against the tiled floor.

Honestly, I don't remember the exact location of our whereabouts, or even how we got there. When I fell asleep, we were outside, and it smelled of rain. I awoke and found myself in a very unfamiliar face, and at first, I was a bit startled and jumped noticably. My gaze quickly shifted over to Albert, who was in the process of lighting a cigarette...a comforting image.

I observed my surroundings. It appeared as if we were hiding in a cave, or a crevice of some sort. It was fairly dark in our hiding place, but the air felt cool, like it did in the spring, as winter faded into summer. I could see the darkened charcoal skies overhead through a few cracks in the darkness. He smiled at me...that was something I could always make out.

"Maybe they'll never find us!" His tone was what threw me off. He sounded delirious, desperate...a tone I had never heard him use before. My eyes softened.

"Albert...we can't stay down here forever. What about food? Water?"

He shook his head. "We'll be fine, I promise. You and I are all we need,"

I had but no choice to believe him.

While I appreciated the time we spent together, I have to admit that it wasn't the most exciting thing to do, sitting in a dark, wet cave. I slept most of the time, or at least tried to. Most of the time, my slumber was interrupted by the sound of scratching against the cave's walls (I assumed Albert was drawing or something) or the sound of my friend's deranged laughing. At first, it was a gentle laugh, but as the seconds ticked by, I noticed that his chuckles sounded a bit more...dejected than anything else. I had never bothered to ask him what was so funny.

Day two of our runaway days had quickly arrived.

By then, Albert had decided that it would be fine for us to resurface from our hole. I had been enjoying a sleepless catnap when I felt his large, cold hands press against my side, then continue to shake me until I was brought to conciousness. "Nate, get up. We've gotta find some food...or at least something to do,"

I wasn't hesitant to get up. To be honest, I was beginning to feel fairly claustrophobic within the cave's tight walls, and being pressed against the giant of a man wasn't helping. Stretching and getting out into the open air sounded more than appealing and I hopped up into a standing position almost immediately. I followed him through an intricrate trail, the details of which I wasn't able to pick up due to the lack of light, and was then forced to squeeze through a hole that barely I could fit through. I couldn't help but to wonder how my counterpart had been able to squeeze both he and I through without waking me up.

The sky was still grey, promising for rain, and I cocked my head some. Would the rain ever fall down? I was beginning to miss the sun. I glanced over to Albert, who stood at his full, enlarged stature while offering me a goofy looking grin.

"Do you want to go catch a rabbit?"

The idea sounded anything but entertaining to me, but I tagged along anyhow. Capturing a creature who had done no harm to me sounded rather sadistic and against my terms...but watching my dearest friend run around frantically after the beast was something to lighten the situation we had found ourselves in. I took the extra time to examine our surroundings...it was certainly not an area I was familiar with. The Wammy House was surrounded by miles of vast forest and terrain, mainly to keep those inside hidden from society and therefore, protected. I only hoped that we were still within that radius.

The sun was quick to set...and Albert was rather disappointed in himself for not catching the "furry bastard," as he reffered to it.

"Ya know...it would've been easy if you would've helped,"

I couldn't help but to snicker some.

Around the time we retreated to our temporary cave aboad, I noticed my stomach's deprevition. The loud groans coming from my insides didn't go unnoticed by my companion. He grinned.

"Oops...I forgot. We'll go and find something tomorrow,"

I honestly didn't want to wait that long...but I didn't complain. I couldn't complain; what could I do about it anyway? If Albert said I had to wait...then I had to wait.

Waking up the next morning was miserable; I felt as if I had no energy. I hadn't eaten for over twenty four hours (the longest I had ever gone without food) and I felt horrible. I had a headache. My stomach felt as if it was going to flip over. And I was thirsty. I looked over to Albert, who was still asleep (or at least, he still appeared so) My eyes fluttered shut; I didn't want to stay awake. I felt dirty. I felt sick. I wanted to go home.

I must've passed out, for the next thing I remember was being woken up by Albert. He smirked some...a more sinister look than his unusual, frightening smile. "We're definitely catching one today,"

He nearly forced me from my lying position and once again, we squeezed through the small hole and headed out into the open. He didn't seem reluctant at all...and with intense intentions, he headed out into the trees. I was weary, but quick to follow.

He first attempted his brute way of simply jumping at the rabbit at first...but after a few minutes of jumping around and sliding after the creature, he gave up and tried a different approach. I couldn't help but to wonder how such a simple man had made it into the second best spot in the orphanage.

Albert began to formulate a plan, and as if on cue, he proved to me his skill. He proved to me why he was directly under L. "Watch," I remember him stating without looking back at me.

After a few minutes of waiting, one of the rabbits had emerged. I say one because even then I had the basic knowledge of burrowing animals; they all lived together. Albert seemed to have taken this into consideration as well. He had a trap set up a few feet away from the rabbit's hole...it appeared simply to be a loop that if he were to tug on the other end, it would snag up and catch the rabbit by it's leg. A simple plan. In the center of this loop was an array of pleasant looking herbs and vegetables he had found around the trees...at least, they probably looked appealing to the rabbit. I watched half-curiously, eyeing the rabbit as it came closer and closer to the snag.

The next thing I knew, the rabbit had been caught in Albert's trap...not by it's foot, but by it's neck.

He had somehow formulated that by pulling the rope just right, he would be able to grab the animal by it's neck and give it a quick, easy death. But not only that...since it died almost instantly, it made absolutely no noise...meaning there was no sign to warn the other rabbits of danger. He glanced at me, demanding that I was quiet, and quickly untied the rabbit and rearranged his trap.

And another rabbit emerged, seeming to be curious to where it's cousin had gone.

We caught five rabbits that day.

As the sun went down, Albert, with a grin, revealed a small pocket knife he had stowed away in his back pocket. I looked up at him, then down at the rabbit...then quickly averted my gaze; I couldn't watch as he slit open the animal's stomach.

As hungry as I was, I couldn't eat the meal he had prepared that night.

I couldn't sleep. As mentioned afore, I was a reoccuring sufferer of insomnia and was forced to stay awake. And I couldn't help but to allow my thoughts to regress back to the rabbits...and Albert. He seemed so...malicious, so sadistic, a side of him I would have never imagined seeing. Something was different about him...no, he had completely changed. Was it simply stress or something more?

The rabbit's lives were a reoccuring thought. I hated watching them die. It made me feel as if Albert had become some sort of ominiscent presence...like he had the power to chose whether they lived or died. I hated that feeling...for no being should have had any influence over anything else's life. It wasn't anybody or anything's decision.

I lost count of our days after two. I started to care less and less.

A's abscence didn't go long without being unnoticed. In fact, Roger, along with a few other men who's names aren't of any importance, came tumbling into the cave about mid-day, I'm assuming. I can't really remember everything... I was fatigued, hungry, and possibly ill. All I remember is Albert being screamed at...and Albert fighting back.

I'm not going into all of the details for the memory of being lectured and almost screamed at by Roger is something I'd soon like to forget, but needless to say, I was punished harshly and without mercy. I wasn't allowed to play games with the other orphans. I wasn't allowed to have any more sweets for months. Worst of all, they took away my toys. My robots, my puzzles...all of them. I realize that running away was a terrible offense but...I don't honestly believe all of my punishment was simply because I ran away, rather, I believe my punishment was based on who I ran away _with._

I wasn't happy. I was _furious._

I kept myself locked up in my room for a majority of my days of punishment, and nothing was new, save for my bottled anger and lack of anything to do besides read...which tended to get quite tedious after doing it day after day.

The only thing I was really allowed to do was stand outside and watch the others have their fun in the terrace. I usually picked the only spot I was familiar with on the outside of the orphanage...our tree. I stood there, watching the others play with envy glistening in my eyes. I myself didn't want to partake in their childish and violent games...I just envied their freedom to do so.

I don't quite know how he managed it, but Albert was able to convince Roger to give him a little time off...and naturally, the first thing on his list of priorities was to come see me. Normally, I would have taken his time off to my advantage, clinging to him and laughing with him like we usually did, but I was still rather irritated with the man and merely stood there, making little effort to make eye contact as he offered me wimpy apologizes and shots at cheap laughter.

"I...really can't take it anymore,"

I hadn't said a word to him until this escaped his lips. There had been a long silence between the two of us beforehand, and his out of the blue statement made things very uncomfortable.

But I tried to pretend it didn't affect me.

"Then do something about it," I stated quite simply, allowing no emotion to pour through my words, save for a slight bit of sarcasm. "I can't stand people who whine and complain about things and then take no action to make things better. If you're really as miserable as you say," Pausing, I took a few steps forward, placing one foot in front of the other as I followed the foot prints already made in the snow. "Fix it. Stop the pain,"

That was the last I saw of him.

I had no idea that suicide was even crossing his mind, and if I did, I'm sure I would have taken some sort of action, even if I was angry. Looking back, I can't help but to feel somewhat responsible for the death of Albert Geisnov. My final words to him were "Stop the pain,"

Of course, I hadn't even thought he would take that as suicide when I said them.

What _I_ meant was for him to step down from his position as L's successor, completely and utterly. Although...that may have been out of the question as well. Seeing as I too have been in the position being L's prodigy, I know how hard it must have been for him to even imagine telling Roger he couldn't do it anymore. He would be looked down upon, made fun of and possibly kicked out of the orphanage. He just couldn't do it.

Nobody had even known until it was too late. To everyone else, he seemed happy...save for me, the one who he had told outright that he was down beyond a healthy level. I felt guilty the moment I found out and still carry a bit of that guilt with me today, although that is a confession you will only find within the context of these logs.

It was dinnertime when the body was found. All of the orphans were in the main area, eating whatever it was we were having that night, I don't really remember...what I remember the most is having one of the adult workers come into the main area with a little girl who was covered in snow, sobbing. I remember as the room fell silent as we all watched the expression on Roger's face change. He muttered something, and it was too quiet to hear from where I was, but thankfully, I've always been good at reading lips and I was able to pick up two, simple syllables.

Al-bert.

Roger, along with the sobbing child and the other male worker quickly left the room, but by then, I was already halfway to the scene. I walked, no, darted the fastest I had ever ran in my life. And then I saw it. Hanging from the largest branch of the largest oak tree, directly across from the orphan'ages stairway, was my best friend's body, dangling by a rope and discolored due to his loss of air. And at the trunk, a burnt out cigarette was found.

The falling snow made the scene seem so peaceful.

The funeral was held on Febuary 27th, ten days after his death. L himself had arrived at the orphanage for the after affairs. I finally was able to meet L in person, and immediately saw why Albert had been chosen to be his successor. They were both so...carefree. If you've ever talked to L in person, you'd soon realize how aloof he was with everything simply by the way he introduces himself. He uses his name so nonchalantly, as if it were nothing but an average name...and at first, this annoyed me.

L continued his stay at the Wammy House for quite some time; he was to pick a new successor. I strayed far away from both L and Roger, for I wanted nothing to do with them; the wounds were still open from Albert's death and seeing those two replacing him so quickly made me feel like I could kick something. But after A's death, I began reserving myself more...not intentionally or for anybody else mind you, but because I was afraid.

It was my emotions that got me beaten by Matt. It was my emotions that got me grounded for two months. And it was my emotions that led A into the wrong direction, causing him to take his life.

Simply, I became a stoic prick. Nothing and nobody meant anything to me anymore. I continued my studies merely because I had nothing better to do. I slacked off and got bad grades purposely so that I would have no chance in replacing my deceased best friend.

But somehow, I still managed to make the cut.


End file.
